


The Damaged Hero

by rambledore



Category: DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Clark Whump, Clark was captured as a child, Diana gives it to him, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, He's tough as hell, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kryptonian Biology, Origin Story, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Torture, as well as his parents, love and support, superwonder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-18 16:12:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16122128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rambledore/pseuds/rambledore
Summary: "My name is Clark Kent. Or it used to be, anyway. I've been captured, tortured and experimented on in this hellhole since I was four years old. They tried to break me. Over and over again. They never did. I'm not broken. I'm just damaged. And one day, I'm going to get out of here. And I'm going to see my parents again."





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story can also be found on FanFiction.net under the same name (on my profile - denyz). I have decided to rewrite this fic (from First Person POV to Third Person POV).
> 
> I do not have any betas, and English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance if there's any grammar errors.

His name was Clark Kent.

It used to be, anyway.

He was just a happy little four-year-old boy from a small town in Kansas. Granted, he could lift a tractor with my pinky finger, but he was a happy boy nonetheless.

He had parents. A family who loved him dearly, and whom he loved even more so. They loved him, even though they knew he was different. Even though he was not of this world. Even though he was.. special.. as his Pa used to say, he felt like he belonged.

Of course, some people didn’t think so. Some people called him a freak for reasons unknown. Fear. Paranoia. Jealousy. Prevention. They were afraid of him. Even at such a young age, he could see it in their eyes.

It didn’t really matter to him. As long as he had his family, as long as he had his Ma and Pa, he was happy. They loved him. He loved them. He belonged with them.

That all changed one day. Even with his memory, he didn‘t remember the day all that well. He figured he suppressed it.

What he did remember was that people came. They didn’t even have to speak to him, he just knew they were bad. And he was right.

They took him away from my family. He tried to fight, He honestly did. But they did something to him. The last thing he remembered from that day was the scream of my mother. She screamed his name. Clark.

From that day forward, his name was Clark no more.

From that day forward, people started calling him Subject Zero.

„I’ve been in this hellhole, this _facility_ , as they called it, for almost seventeen years. They tried to dissect me while I was conscious. They told me anesthetics didn’t work on me. I don’t know if they do, they never tried, as far as I can remember. They tortured me. Interrogated me, for reasons unknown to me. I always begged them to stop. I cried, I screamed, I whimpered. I begged again and again. They never stopped. They kept doing this to me.

After years and years of constant.. torture.. I stopped begging them to stop. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. I wouldn’t, because I realized that they enjoyed it when I begged for them to stop. When I cried.

They tried to break me, over and over again. They tried, and they failed.

I’m damaged, not broken.

And one day, I’m going to get out of here. I’m going to join the world again. I’m going to see my parents again. Whether the people here like it or not. I’m their slave. I’m not their pawn. And I’m certainly not their plaything. I know my value, even if the others here don’t know theirs." He put the pen down.


	2. The Good Doctor

_An explosion._

_„We cannot leave, Jor. But he can. He will not share our fate. He will live, amongst the stars.“_

_A tremor._

_„I know, my love. He will be free. Alive. He’ll be a god among men.“_

_Terrifying screams, followed by another tremor. Stronger. Harsher._

_The man looked down, and pressed a kiss to the child’s forehead._

_„Farewell, my son. We love you, even in our doom. You are the last son of Krypton. The last hope.“_

_The ground cracked open. People started falling in. Cries everywhere._

_„It’s time,“ said the woman next to him. A beautiful woman. Young. Strong. With eyes full of compassion. Love. And desperation. She was terrified._

_„Goodbye, Kal-El. Remember – even if you feel alone. Even if you feel helpless. Desperate. Detached. We shall be with you. In your heart. Remember that, my son,“ the man said yet again._

_The man tried to sound calm._

_The cries intensified. Another terrible tremor shook the foundation of the planet._

_The woman looked at the child. At him. Her eyes filled with unshed tears._

_„I love you, my little Kal. Forever and always.“_

_The baby. Him._

_He reached his hands towards his mother. To feel her gentle touch one last time._

_He couldn’t._

_Something transparent closed around him. Cold._

_Another explosion. Another tremor. Cries were heard everywhere, yet he couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t hear anything, for he was already up in the sky. Far beyond the tremors. Far beyond the explosions. And far beyond the cries._

_The baby looked at the planet once again. One last time. It started to split open, gaysers full of lava reached the sky, yet beyond his reach._

_And with one last look, with one last tear, and one last cry.. the planet—_

He woke up abruptly, cold sweat making his clothes clinging to his, hsi first hurting. He tried to breathe evenly in an attempt to try and calm down his fast-beating heart. Unsuccesfully.

The throb in his fist was not easing, making him look looked at the wall, where a fist-shaped hole could be found.

It happened again.

The dream. Or nightmare, more like.

He was used to it. One can’t be in a place like this for years without having terrors haunting one in one‘s dreams.

His dreams.. nightmares.. usually consisted of pain. Of screams. Darkness. Brokenness. Crying. And yet, this dream was different.

Not because he couldn‘t feel pain. He could. The pain was still there. Not physical, no. The kind of pain was the worst one there was. The pain of losing someone again and again. Just like he lost Ma and Pa. And just like he lost.. them.

He figured a long time ago that they were his biological parents. He was uneducated, not stupid. Most of the „scientists“ here called him alien. An _it_. To them, he was not human. For them, he was below that. He was below any animal, any human, and any organism on Earth. And yet, they needed him.

Why else would they try to interrogate him for seventeen years straight?

„Even dickheads like them should’ve figured out a long time ago that I didn’t know anything,“ he whispered.

Maybe they enjoyed it. They knew he knew nothing, and yet they enjoyed seeing him in pain. Seeing him try to hold his screams, his cries, his pleas in.

He did scream. And he did cry. But he did not break. He promised himself a long time ago never to give them the satisfaction of seeing him broken.

He was pulled out of my thoughts by a sharp pain in his hand, and only then has he noticed his fist still in the wall. Quickly putting it out, he started inspecting his knuckles. Split open. Bloody. Maybe broken. He didn’t care.

He used to be stronger when he first came here. He thought it was actually funny, when they tried to experiment on him for the first time. Their scalpels broke. Even the titanium ones. They did manage to cut him open with some green scalpel, and yeah, it did hurt like a bitch. He still had the scars to prove it.

He slowly stood up from the bed and made his way across the cell, which was done by no more than three steps. There, he had what he liked to call his improvised callendar. He let out a small snort. February 29th.

„Happy Brithday, Clark. You‘re officially 21,“ he whispered to himself.

Legally, he was allowed to drink now. He would love down a shot. If he hadn’t been locked up.

Head had no idea what time it was, as he didn’t have any windows in his cell, just a little light bulb on the ceiling, which he did not want to break again in his fit of anger. It was probably sometime between midnight and lunch.

Obviously.

His ears picked up a scream of pain and a laugh from a cell right next to his. The guards seemed to be in a good mood today. Or a bad one. Sometimes he really couldn’t tell the difference.

The screams subsided, as did the laughs, and he could hear the guard’s foosteps stop right in front of his cell. He heard a chuckle. Great.

The door opened.

 „Wakey, wakey, Zero!“ said the guard tauntingly. Clark very much wanted to wipe that smirk off the guard‘s face. With his fist. The good one, of course. „It’s time for your daily _examination._ “

The _examination_ , as they caledl it, was an every-day experimentation on the prisoners, as well as their torture, if they decided to step out of line – which Clark did almost every time. He got used to it.

He sighed quietly and made his way over to the guard, holding his hands out for the guard to cuff them. Clark tested the cuffs. Reinforced, most likely. He would be offended if they weren’t.

It would hurt to break out of them... he could do it. Just like he could’ve done to it the day before. Or the day before that. Or the day before that. He didn’t.

He decided a long time ago to wait for an opportunity to escape. He was not stupid. He knew he had to wait. So he did.

The guard’s name was Mitchell, though Clark called him cheeky dickhead. Cheeky Dickhead grinned coldly and with zero warning, punched Clark hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

It took him a few seconds, but when he was finally able to breathe again, he slowly straightened and looked into cheeky’s eyes.

„Morning to you, too, sweetheart,“ Clark said evenly, smirking slightly. He could see him starting to get pissed off, „how are you today? Slept well?“

Most of the people who worked here hated Clark‘s guts for multiple reasons. The scientists hated him because he told them to fuck off every few minutes. The guards hated me because he also told them to fuck off frequently, but also because he tried to protect the other prisoners here – something that his parents had instilled in him .. or perhaps it was something that had been inside of him all along. He was the most powerful in the facility. He had to protect them.

And generally, the people hated him here because he wasn’t afraid to say anything right in their face. Usually just insults. Clark was brought to the present when he felt a sting from cheeky dickhead’s slap.

 „Oh, I’m going to enjoy this one, Zero. I’m going to watch you writhe and cry in pain while they dissect you again. And then, when you heal, which you always do, I’m going to have some fun with you,“ he said with a sneer, and then winked.

Clark wrinkled his nose. „Sorry, you’re not my type.“

Truth be told, Clark was starting to get a little worried. More than that, he was starting to get pissed off. His body started to tremble – not from fear, but from anger.

The dickhead just laughed, thinking it was fear that was making him shake. His laughter died off when he looked into Clark’s eyes.

Clark smirked.

 

 

He was led through the hallways by no less than four guards, one of which was Mitchell, the cheeky dickhead himself.

Clark tried not to look at the other cells, as most of the doors had a small window, so that the prisoners could look at the hallway, for reasons unknown.

He had a window like that once, too. Until he broke it. With someone’s head.

Clark could see some prisoners look at him with sympathy in their eyes. And pity.

„So, nothing new,“ he quietly whispered to himself. Luckily, the guards did not seem to notice his whispering.

A few minutes later, they reached the end of the hallway where a door with the name _Dr. Emil Hamilton_ could be seen _._ So today’s session would be with Dr. Hamilton. He was one of the nicer ones, though Clark still hated him with a burning passion. It was hard to like someone when that someone was cutting you into pieces and taking samples of your internal organs. Every day.

One of the guards knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door opened and the doctor himself stood there, in his usual white lab coat, balding grey hair and a greying beard. Personally, Clark would have shaved that little bit of hair on his head if he were him, but alas, he was not. Clark mentally congratulated himself.

„Ah, Subject Zero, welcome. Come in,“ he said and gestured for Clark to come in.

He hesitated, and the guards immediately pushed him inside. He sighed.

Two guards had ahold of both his arms, while the other two stood and closely watched his every move. He tried not to spit at them. He failed.

 

 

10 minutes, 2 spits, and a black eye later, which he was not on the receiving end of, Clark found himself strapped on the examination table in Dr. Hamilton’s lab, the guards standing outside the door, the man himself standing above Clark and looking at him curiously.

„What?“ Clark asked, a hint irritation creeping into his voice. He couldn’t care less.

He still had the curious expression on his face. „You have been here for seventeen years, yet you still fight.“

Clark very much wanted to tell him that _no shit, really? I wouldn’t have guessed_ , but he decided to let him finish his thoughts.

„Why?“ he asked.

Clark looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, he thought about the answer. Normally, he would just be quiet or told him to fuck off, but he decided against it. There was something in his eyes. Compassion. Something Clark hadn‘t seen in a really, really long time, not even from the prisoners.

„I’ve been here for seventeen years, yes,“ Clark eventually started, „but if you think I’m just going to sit.. or lay..“ he added as an afterthought, „here and let you break me, you are wrong. Very wrong. You are never going to break me. And I swear to you, one day, I will get out of here. Alive.“

He seemed to mull it over for a few minutes. And then, his eyes hardened in determination. The doctor started moving quickly, unstrapping Clark from the examination table.

„You are much stronger than you think you are, Kryptonian,“ he said with a small smile on his face. „Now go.“

Clark gently rubbed his hands, which were still a little bit sore from the cuffs. He looked at him.

„Did you just say.. Kryptonian?“ I asked.

He just nodded. „You’ll figure it out. In time.“

Clark looked at the door. He gently shook his head, and it was then that Clark knew he had no chance of escaping through the door. An idea struck him. It would probably hurt like hell, but it would be worth it. Probably. If he didn’t die in the process.

He looked at the wall pointedly, and the scientist’s expression changed from puzzled to one of realization.

„I don’t know if you’re going to survive this,“ he said, „we’re not exactly on the lowest floor.“

Clark shrugged. „Better to die while trying to escape then die one day in here, like a lab rat.“

Dr. Hamilton looked at the wall again, and then back at Clark. „Okay. If you do this, and survive this, remember two things,“ I gestured for him to continue. „Don’t come back. Ever. Live your life. And two. The sun.“

Clark had no time to ask him what he meant by the sun, because right then, the guards tried to open the door unsuccessfully. The doctor must have locked it.

Clark looked at him, his expression sad. „I’m going to hurt you a little bit for it to be convincing, okay? Trust me, it’s not going to be too bad.“

Dr. Hamilton just shrugged and nodded, as if he was expecting this. Clark sighed, told him to get ready, and punched him hard across the jaw, knocking him out.

Clark looked at his unconscious body. „Thank you, doctor.“

With that, he made my way over to the opposite side of the room, and with a record-breaking sprint, he ran into the wall, shattering it in the process.

It hurt a lot. If he were to describe it, he’d say that it hurt like a bitch. The throbbing in his fist from the nightmare felt like a caress in comparison. Clark didn’t care.

That was until he realized he wasn’t on the ground yet. Clark looked down. He was at least two hundred feet in the air.

There was only one word to describe this situation.

„Shit.“


	3. The Daring Rescue

_Shit. Okay, Clark, stay calm. You’ll survive this. It’s gonna be okay,_ he tried to comfort myself. It didn’t work.

It was strange. Even though he was pretty sure he was pummeling to his death, he felt.. content, somehow. Like he had done something right for the first time in his life. He felt the wind on my body, and for perhaps the first time in seventeen years, he felt.. free. It felt amazing.

Somehow, he managed to angle his body and hit the pavement with his feet, not his face. His feet apparently managed to absorb his fall, and it didn’t hurt much.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of his body – running through a wall is not something Clark would like to do ever again.

Taking a deep breath, Clark slowly looked around. It was pretty dark, but not midnight-dark. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon.

The pain in his whole body started to subside, and somehow, he felt stronger. Like when he was back in Kansas, in front of his parents‘ house, running around with a red blanket wrapped around his neck. He remembered that day pretty well. He accidentally made a dent in his Pa’s tractor.

Clark couldn’t wait to see them again. He hoped they still remembered him. That they still wanted him. It had been seventeen years, after all. Plenty of time for them to have moved on.

Just then, the unmistakable sound of an alarm – it was extremely loud – could be heard. To Clark, it felt as if his ears were about to pop. They didn’t, fortunately, but Clark knew he had no time to spare.

He started running, not caring where. Somewhere. Anywhere. Just somewhere away. Clark hoped Dr. Hamilton was okay – he didn’t hurt him badly, but he was worried about the consenquences the doctor would face because of his escape. If they somehow found out that he had helped him.. well, Clark would rather not think about it.

He tried to stop thinking about it again, and much to his surprise, it worked – the happiness was short lived, though, as about three seconds later, he felt a sharp pain in his lower back. At first, he thought it was nothing – it could’ve been a mosquito. There was lots of mosquitos back in Smallville.

But then, the pain spread through his lower back and into his entire body. Clark decided then and there that he would rather take running through a wall any day over this.

He could barely see straight. It felt as though every part of his body, even the smallest, was bearing torn to shreds, then reassembled again and then torn to shreads again. The burning feeling didn’t really help it, either.

Before he could even register what happened, his face hit the ground, as his legs had refused to obey him. Or maybe he hadn’t even given them the order to move. The only thing he could focus on was the pain.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

Clark vaguely heard loud screams from somewhere far away, and only a second later did he realize that they were his own.

It could’ve been seconds or it could’ve been hours before the pain finally started subsiding and Clark‘s eyelids started getting heavy. Clark welcomed unconsciousness with open arms.

It was a mistake.

 

 

His eyelids felt incredibly heavy – that was the first thought that came to him when he gained consciousness again.

The next thing that hit him was the smell. It felt familiar, like a deja-vu.

It smelled like back ho—no. No home.

It smelled like the place he‘d lived for the past seventeen years. Yes. Better. But it wasn’t entirely like that. There was another smell. He had smelled it before, when he was younger – when they tried to .. _examine_ him for the first time. Well, before that, actually. When he came into that laboratory for the first time, the ground was stained with it. He remembered gagging when he smelt it for the first time.

Blood.

He felt pressure on his limbs and forehead. Figuring they strapped him, Clark tried to open his eyes, at least.

He figured that he was probably sedated, as his body didn’t seem to want to listen to him. He had been strapped to a table before, but he could always move at least some part of his body. Not the case today, apparently. Clark tried to move his hand. He couldn’t. He tried to move his head. Surprise, surprise – he couldn’t. Clark tried to open his eyes, and to his surprise, he managed to peel his eyelids open.

The light was blinding and he immediately squeezed them shut.

But he was awake, at least – he could hear and smell everything around him. He could hear footsteps from the outside of the room. They were heavy – which meant it was probably a man.

Unless it was a heavier woman. Clark did not discriminate.

Clark’s breathing quickened.

The door opened, and he smelt a vaguely lemony scent. Probably the man’s perfume.

Nothing happened for about a minute. Then, in a deep, cold voice, the man said, „Don’t pretend to be asleep, Kryptonian. Your breathing’s uneven.“

Clark tried to talk back to him, but he couldn’t. What the hell was a Kryptonian?

„You are probably wondering why you cannot move, Kryptonian. Or would you prefer Subject Zero?“

Clark felt a surge of red, hot anger boil inside of him. He loathed that name. Clark wasn’t a lab experiment. They had treated him like that more often than not, but He. Was. Not. Clark really wanted to punch the guy in the ugly face he was sure he was sporting.

„Well, Zero, it’s a new version of the LuthorCorp sedative. Based on a neurotoxin. It is strong enough to immobilize eight adult elephants,“ the man said, and this time, his voice sounded proud. And condescending.

Normally, Clark would talk back, perhaps even ask what LuthorCorp was. He couldn’t, and not because of the sedative. He had no idea who the man was, but he really, really wanted to knock his teeth in.

„With your metabolism, I assume it will wear out in about.. 10 minutes. For now, just listen,“ he said, and his tone changed slightly.

„I won’t tell you my name, because it doesn’t matter – you will die, anyway. You are not in your old home anymore.“

Well, that was a relief.

„However,“ shit, „that doesn’t mean we’ll go easy on you, Kryptonian. We know more about you than you think. Back there, in 33.1, the idiots didn’t know what they had right under their noses. But we do. We know how valuable you are. Your physiology is.. unique. Even among the various aliens we have already... experimented on, if you will.

They knew you were an alien – no doubt about that. However, they didn’t know just what kind of an alien you were. Ancient. Powerful. Ours,“ he said, his voice got harder at the last three words.

Ancient? Clark had no idea what he meant by that. He knew he was na alien – had known since his first _examination_. Not very hard to figure it out when they called him that every day. That, or ... the other name.

Why did he call him a Kryptonian? Clark felt something at the bottom of his stomach.

And suddenly, as if a lightbulb had been went off, he figured it out.

„Welcome to Cadmus.“

The man then walked over to Clark – he could smell the scent getting stronger and stronger. His footsteps growing louder.

„Sleep, Kryptonian. It shall be the last peaceful moment of your life,“ the man whispered into Clark‘s ear, making a chill run down his spine.

Oh, if only Clark could talk. He‘d call him names so awful that if his Ma were there, she’d wash his mouth with a soap so many times he’d smell flowery for a week.

With that last thought, Clark slipped into the world of blackness (or, a darker blackness) once more.

 

When Clark woke again, he could finally move. Somewhat. He was able to move my head in all directions, and he could open his eyes without immediately closing them. Other than that, he was as immobile as before. Clark noticed that he was lying vertically this time, as opposed to the horizontal position he had been in before.

Lucky him.

Once Clark opened his eyes, he noticed that he was alone in a dark room. The room was cold, even for him. Clark, however, was used to being cold. Even in the dark, Clark could see that the machines in the room looked brand new.

The machines looked shinier than the ones in.. what did the man call it? 33.1? Yes. 33.1.

Clark looked around some more.

The room was spacious, with high ceiling – at least 12 feet tall. It vaguely smelled of the chemicals 33.1 used to clean the blood off the floor. And walls, sometimes.

The door slowly opened, and Clark groaned.

_Seriously? How many times do we have to go through this? Me waking up, someone opening the door, hearing heavy footsteps, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera._

„I see you are awake. Very good.“ Clark shuddered involuntarily. From the cold, obviously. Nah. He could describe the voice in many words. Cold. Hard. Calculating. Cruel. Maniac. Apathetic. Deep.

But only one word fit the description best.

Scary.

Strangely enough, it was the voice from before.

The lights flicked on, and Clark had to close my eyes for a few seconds. The light was blinding. Once he finally opened them, it took him a few seconds to adjust.

Once they adjusted, they were met with a pair of cold green. Clark slowly looked away from the man’s eyes, instead choosing to observe his face. The man was bald, his eyebrows were completely black, and his lips broke into a cold grin when, Clark guessed, he saw a flicker of fear in his eyes.

Clark immediately forced his face, eyes and his entire body to harden. To become a mask of calm. An unreadable expression.

It seemed to work, as the man sneered at him and backed away a little.

He was pretty tall, and had an athletic build, unlike Clark. The cheeky dickhead used to say that Clark was the definition of scrawny. The lab coat that the man was wearing decidedly did not ease Clark’s nerves. In his experience, lab coats usually meant bad things.

„Welcome, Kryptonian. I have heard of your kind. Such a shame you are the last one,“ he said coldly, and grinned again when Clark‘s eyes widened.

The last of his kind?

He couldn’t mean.. no, no, no, no, nonononono.

„Oh, yes, Kryptonian. Your planet is gone. You are the last one. You are all alone,“ the man said with a cold grin.

Clark’s expression hardened. The man tried to manipulate him. Break him. He would not break.

„That may be true, shiny-head,“ Clark finally said, his voice scratchy. The man‘s eyebrows scrunched in irritation, „but that doesn’t mean you’ll break me.“

Clark then sent him a kiss. Pretty daring, considering Clark was scared shitless. He didn’t care.

Clark barely registered the man’s hand on his cheek before he felt the sting. It stung only a little, luckily.

Okay, perhaps a little more than a little.

„Don’t play games with me, Kryptonian. The idiots back in 33.1 didn’t know what they were doing. They could barely hurt you. But I know how to do it.“ He grinned, „In fact, I came here from the other side of the country, just for you.“

Clark’s defense mechanism was working over-time, and so he awed. The man slapped him again.

„I’m going to punish those idiots, in due time. However, now is the time we play,“ he whispered the last part, before slowly walking behind him.

Clark heard something pop open – a briefcase, most likely. Funny. Clark hadn’t noticed that before. When baldie appeared in front of him , Clark‘s muscles spasmed involunarily. It hurt like hell. He felt as if he‘d felt it before. Only this time, it hurt a little less.

„Wh-what is this?“ Clark gasped through the pain.

Baldie held a piece of a green rock in front of him. The closer to Clark he put it, the worse the pain became.

„That, my dear Kryptonian, is what I like to call Kryptonite. A radioactive piece of your homeworld. It doesn’t affect humans. But Kryptonians, like you, on the other hand..“ he left the sentence hanging.

Clark started to sweat heavily, and felt as if he was to give birth to a bunch of aliens (ironic, isn’t it?) through his abdomen. Clark’s hazy mind made a mental note to throw up on him, if that happened. Even though he had no idea whether he would throw up something – his stomach had been pretty empy for some time now.

„It hurts, doesn’t it?“ he asked, the edge in his voice audible.

The bastard was enjoying it. Oh, once Clark got my hands on hi— a sharp pain in his torso interrupted his train of thought.

When he looked down, Clark saw his skin cut open.

„Yo-you’ve got t-to be kid-kidding me,“ he got out. Barely.

Baldie’s grin widened, yet he said nothing.

He leaned over and punched a red button, and Clark felt himself changing positions – from vertical to horizontal. Great. That could mean only one thing.

The bastard was going to experiment on him.

 

 

The next few hours were pretty much hell. Baldie beat Clark up with the _kryptonite_ rock multiple times, just to see his body’s reaction.

The reaction? Not very good, but better expected.

Clark had noticed some hours ago that the pain was becoming more bearable over time. Ever so slowly, Clark was becoming immune to it – the realization made Clark smirk, making baldie throw a calculating glance his way. Clark‘s muscles did not as much anymore, but he kept tensing them so that baldie wouldn’t notice.

Baldie decided to take a break, then, just as Clark was on the verge of consciousness. Still, Clark couldn’t help but notice that baldie was sweating now and that he looked tired.

„Glad to see I’m not the only one it takes its toll on,“ Clark mumbled to him and grinned. His lip split when the grin widened, making the lip bleed. Clark was used to the taste of his blood – not the worst thing to have ever happened to him.

„Now, now, Kryptonian,“ he grinned coldly. Baldie‘s voice was as cold and emotionless as ever, but Clark met him head-on. Clark didn’t back down, although, admittedly, he would perhaps be shitting his pants if he had something in his body besides the barely-there muscles, bones, blood, and .. pretty much nothing else.

Slap. Another slap. Another. Again. It stung. Again.

Clark spat in his face. It hit his cheek. Jackpot.

Another slap.

„You think I’m afraid of you, don’t you?“ Clark glared at him with the force of a thousand suns. Baldie glared right back. „That would be the right assumption. I may be scared of you, baldie,“ _slap,_ „but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up. I will get out of here,“ Clark said, his bloody lips widening.

He clapped sarcastically. „A very inspiring speech, Kryptonian. However, it does not change a thing. Now, let’s see how you handle electricity.“

Clark‘s eyes widened. He couldn’t be serious. Except that he could be. He put something sticky on Clark‘s skin. The sticky things in question were attached to cables which lead to a—

„Is that a fucking car battery?“ Clark wheezed out. He felt the urge to laugh.

The whole place looked sleek and modern and everything, and he chose an auto battery? Come on. Clark didn’t have the chance to say anything else before he felt a thousand needles pierce his skin all the way down to his organs, making his muscles clench.

Clark screamed.

Every cell in his body screamed in pain, just like Clark. His vision turned blurry before his voice gave up on him, making the only thing that could be heard being baldie’s laugh over the sound of torture.

Just before Clark could lose consciousness ... or his life life, for that matter ... the alarm went off. It would’ve made Clark cringe if he hadn’t been already cringing from the pain. The electricity suddenly stopped and Clark‘s muscles finally relaxed. He lifted his head and looked at the asshole, but through his blurry eyes, the only thing he could see was his frantically moving sillhouette. Clark was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath and properly regain his bearings.

The door opened and someone stepped inside. Clark blinked a couple of times as his vision cleared a little. Clark squinted. It was a woman. Definitely a woman. She wasn’t a scientist – Clark had never seen a scientist dressed like that. It looked like the swimsuit one of Clark‘s inmates back in 33.1 showed him in some magazine, except that it looked .. almost like an armor? Clark tried to move past that, deciding that his brain was definitely playing tricks on him. The room, however, was as dark as ever, and he could not get a good look at the woman’s face.

The room was so quiet, and even baldie stood still, that Clark could hear the silent gasp the woman in question let out once she apparently looked at Clark. His ego took a small hit.

Who was she, anyway? Based on baldie’s reaction, she was an enemy of his, which would most likely make her an ally of Clark’s.

„LUTHOR!“ she bellowed. Clark’s dull mind registered her accent, which sounded very foreign to his ears. It was pretty surprising, considering that a lot of Clark’s former inmates had strange accents. Clark, however, decided to let that thought go once he could literally feel baldie, or Luthor, apparently, flinch. Clark grinned, making his unhealed lip split once again.

Who was the weak one now, huh?

„What have you done?!“ she charged at him and proceeded to punch him in the face. Usually, Clark hated his eidetic memory, but he was very sure he’d replay this moment for the rest of his life, however long it was to be. Luthor fell to the ground, knocked out cold. The woman breathed heavily, before looking at me with a hard look, her eyes almost black with anger. Clark finally got a good look at her face. She was the most beautiful woman Clark had ever seen in his entire locked up life, and at least four times as intimidating than Luthor had been, so excuse Clark‘s flinch. Again. She must have noticed the flinch, and she also seemed to realize what caused it, making her eyes immediately soften to a Kansas sky blue with a look so full of compassion and sympathy it nearly took his breath away. Or, perhaps, it was the aftereffects of being electrocuted..

„Hey,“ she said softly, purposefully keeping her voice low and gentle, so unlike the one she used on Luthor just seconds ago. She slowly approached him, her expression open and gentle, trying very hard not to startle Clark any more than she already had. Once she was close to him, she slowly raised her hand to his cheek, not breaking eye contact all the while. Clark automatically leaned into her touch, a sense of calm overwhelming him. She smiled, and it was then that Clark noticed that she had unstrapped him from the table with her other hand. She was strong.

 „We’re getting you out of here,“ she whispered, her voice impossibly gentle.

Clark would’ve fallen flat on his face had she not caught him. She helped him get up, as Clark was too weak to do that on his own, and together, they slowly walked out of the room, her presence strong beside him. It took a few seconds for Clark’s eyes to adjust to the brightness of the hallways.

It wasn’t long before two other people caught up to them, both dressed a little funny, according to Clark. „Who’s that?“ one of them asked. He was wearing a red suit with some circular symbol on his chest. It looked like a ... lightning bolt? Clark decided not to question it. He was still too tired, barely able to keep his head up. Instead, he looked at the other person. The other one had a dark grey suit of armor, similar to the woman’s, except it covered his whole body, and he had a black cape and a cowl. The symbol on his chest resembled a bat.

„A _former_ prisoner,“ the woman answered. Clark did not miss her wording. Former prisoner. Former. The realization sank in. Clark was getting out of here. After years of imprisonment, physical and psychological torture, Clark was finally going to see my parents. He smiled – a full, toothy smile, not caring about his bloody lip. It was an honest smile, not a sarcastic one he used to give to the scientists. The lightning guy seemed to notice this.

„He’s smiling, Diana,“ he said. So the woman’s name was Diana. Well, he batguy’s name could’ve been Diana, too, but somehow, Clark doubted it. She looked into his eyes, and smiled at the gratitude and relief in them. Her eyes crinkled around the corners.

The lightning guy wrapped an arm around Clark as well (Clark barely managed to hide his flinch), helping Diana support his weight – not that she needed it, the guy said immediately after she gave him a look, but that it would apparently make Clark more comfortable. It did, a little bit.

„So, what’s your name?“ asked Diana with a gentle, reassuring smile.

„Clark,“ he answered immediately, his voice still hoarse. It felt so good, telling someone his real name. Not Subject Zero. Not Kryptonian. Just Clark.

„Pleased to meet you, Clark. My name’s Diana of Themyscira, also known as Wonder Woman to the world.“

Clark smiled. Wonder Woman. She certainly was. „Thank you for saving me,“ he croaked out, „you are definitely one wonder of a woman.“

„Dude’s been locked up for who knows how long and he still manages to make puns. I like him,“ said the lightning guy. „By the way, I’m Flash, the fastest man alive. And this prude over here,“ he motioned at the batguy with his free hand, „is Batman, also known as the dark knight, world’s greatest detective, the devil of Gotham and .. many more. Or the most boring person in the universe. You pick.“

Batman growled at him. Clark look at Diana, „Was I the only one..?“

„Yes,“ she answered quietly after he left the question hanging in the air, „the other are ... dead.“

A sense of dread overcame him after she said it. He was getting out of here, but no one else was.

They finally made it outside – it was afternoon, and the sun hit him in the face with full force. Clark closed his eyes out of sheer reflex. His skin started to tingle. His whole body did. Clark opened his eyes, looked at Diana and Flash, and let go. Flash let go immediately, while Diana let go reluctantly, but standing by if I needed support. Clark stepped forward and spread my arms wide, letting the sun’s rays hit him. He didn’t know what was happening to me or why, but Clark felt like he was supposed to do this a long time ago. Like the sun had always been a part of him, whether it shone on him or not.

Clark smiled. All the pain started to disappear. He felt stronger. Hearing someone gasp behind him, his eyes shot open. It didn’t take too long to realize why Flash gasped. Clark looked down. He was floating almost two feet in the air. Turning around, he smiled at his saviors and sheepishly asked, „Would you mind helping me down?“

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the first interaction!:)
> 
> Please, leave Kudos and Comments down below, I really appreciate it!:)


	4. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, there is one chapter left to edit, and then I'm going to have to write the new ones from scratch, meaning they will be more spaced. Hope you don't mind. I'd like them to be a weekly thing, perhaps a chapter every two weeks.
> 
> Anyway! Here's the fourth (third?) chapter.

Ten minutes, a freaked out Flash and a flying Diana later, Clark found himself on the ground once again. However, he didn’t miss the suspicious look Batman gave him, followed by a chill running down his back. Something about this Batman wasn’t adding up – call it an act of instinct, but Clark didn’t trust him. Well, he didn’t really trust anyone by this point, perhaps not even Diana, even tough she had saved him.

He was getting there. He knew he could trust her.

Clark felt okay, if a little woozy, but otherwise fine. Diana, however, wouldn’t have any of it. She helped him get abord some plane – Flash called it the Javelin, if Clark heard him correctly (he knew he did). Diana sat down next to him and helped him fasten the seat belt, and while Clark was perfectly capable of doing it himself, he was still grateful that she tried to help him for no real reason except for the fact that she cared, expecting nothing in return.

If Clark noticed her looking at his scars a few times, he didn’t say anything.

He did notice.

Flash told him they were going to a place called the Hall of Justice, whatever it was. They later on explained who they were – the Justice League, an assemblage of superpowered people whose mission was to protect the world and the people in it. Diana and Flash smiled at Clark reassuringly while Batman just went on with piloting the Javelin, not saying anything all the while.

Still, the surprise in their eyes was evident – they didn’t know who Clark was, except for his name, and they were very clearly confused. Clearing his throat, Clark said, „I’m guessing you are even more confused than I am.“

Diana, who was looking at Clark from the corner of her eye, whipped her head around and looked at him properly. Clark held her gaze, not breaking eye contact, and really, it wasn’t that hard of a thing. Clark thought people could lose themselves in those sky blue eyes of hers, holding so much sympathy and compassion, and yet so much fierceness and strength. They reminded him of his mother’s eyes, which often held the same compassionate look.

She cut off Flash, who was trying to say something, with a soft, „You’ll explain it to us later, okay?“

Not knowing how to answer the question, Clark nodded, and everyone fell into a comfortable silence again. Clark let my mind wander – were his parents okay? Were they even alive? Would they be happy to see his? It had been seventeen years.

_No, I can‘t think like that._

The rest of the ride was silent, and what seemed like minutes, though it was probably hours, Batman finally told them they had arrived to the Hall of Justice.

To be honest, Clark had no idea what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this – a horde of people was standing there, with cameras – they looked similar to the one Clark‘s Pa used to have, except they were bigger and looked even more modern. Flash explained to him that they were reporters, people who collect, write and distribute news.

Okay. Why not?

Once we were inside, Clark said, „This isn’t your real headquarters, is it?“

The surprise was clear even on Batman’s face, and Clark did his very best not to smile. He looked at Flash and Diana from the corner of his eye, seeing her smirking at Batman. And Flash looked even more surprised than Batman. The guy couldn’t hide his emotions even through the mask. Finally, Clark let a small smile throug his

„How did you know?“

His voice was suspicious once again, and Clark found he really didn’t like it. He decided to answer him, if only for the sake of his own amusement. „I’m not that stupid, Batman. It’s too public, too knowledgeable. Too dangerous. This place is most likely the official headquarters for the public where you sometimes make an appearance every once in a while just for the sake of it.“

Diana grinned, and Clark‘s lips quirked upward in response. „You certainly aren’t,“ she said. he still wondered what kind of accent she had. Some of Clark‘s former inmates in 33.1 were from Europe or Asia, and one or two were from Australia, but their accents were nothing even remotely similar to hers. Clark then decided to ask later.

„You’re right,“ answered Batman, „we have an orbital satellite called the Watchtower – the real headquarters. The teleporters are here.“

Having no idea what teleporters were, Clark decided to follow the heroes. They stopped in front of some tube, and a memory flashed through his mind.

_„No, no! Please, don’t do this!“_

_The scientist cackled and answered in a horrible accent. „Oh, don’t vory, Subject Ziro. Ve vil not let you drovn. Most likely.“_

_„Why are you doing this?“ He asked, his thin  voice full of fear and ... anger._

_„We just want to know how well are you going to handle the pressure,“ answered another one, his voice falsely sweet._

_Clark was trying to break out of the shackles with all his might. „It is not going to work, Subject Zero. Even your gravity-enhanced strength is no match for the Nth metal.“_

_His chest was heaving with repressed sobs, and with a last grin and push of a button, he was—_

„Clark? CLARK!!“

Clark felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched. The hand immediately retracted. Clark opened his eyes, which were met with a concerned pair of sky blues. „Are you okay?“ she asked quietly. She was worried.

Clark took a few deep breaths. „Y-Yeah,“ he gasped. He looked at the wall – a hole the size of his fist embedded in it. „Wh-what happened?“

„You had a flashback,“ answered Batman a couple of feet away. „Most likely a side-effect of the Post-Traumatic Stress.“

„W-why now? Never had one of ... these ... before,“ Clark said, the stuttering slowly but surely disappearing.

„It’s called _post-traumatic_ for a reason,“ he said, and Diana shot him a look. He shut up immediately.

„Clark, what triggered it?“ she asked quietly, trying to keep her voice as soft as possible, probably from the fear of triggering another flashback.

With a deep breath, Clark whispered „I-I can’t. I’m sorry. Not ... not yet.“

He still saw himself in the tube full of water, the pressure trying to squeeze him into a ball of Kryptonian pulp, and the smile of the two scientists claiming it to be for the good of mankind.

_Good of mankind, my ass._

Diana nodded in understanding, and smiled a little sadly. She looked at the teleporter and then back at me – she was smart. Of course she figured it had something to do with it. She stood up and offered Clark a hand, which Clark accepted, not flinching this time, and helped him to his feet.

„Ready?“ she asked.

Clark steeled himself and looked at her. „Yeah.“

Flash went first, just to show Clark how it worked and that there was nothing to be afraid of. Diana went, then, and told him she’d meet him on the other side, her smile teasing yet sincere. Clark cracked a smile at that. She had a sense of humor.

And then, it was his turn. He looked at Batman, who nodded and tried to smile reassuringly, but it came out as a grimace. The man probably smiled even less than Clark, if that were possible.

Well, it was entirely plausible, considering the number of times Clark had smiled after calling some scientist a dipshit.

Entering, Clark felt a prickle all over his body – not unlike the one he felt when he felt the sun’s rays touch him for the first time – and when he opened his eyes, Clark found himself standing in front of four people, two of which were Diana and Flash. Clark smiled and stepped out of the teleporter. The two other people introduced themselves as Black Canary and Green Arrow.

„Nice to meet you. My name is Clark. Uh, Clark Kent,“ he said. It felt weird, saying his last name for the first time in years.

What was even weirder, however, was seeing Green Arrow’s eyes go a little wide.

„Clark Joseph Kent?“ he asked, making Clark stop dead in his tracks.

„Yes. How did you know?“

He looked at Clark and then at Diana. Why was everyone looking at Diana? Well, she had the aura of a leader, but still. She looked just as surprised as Clark felt.

„It was all over the news. They broadcast it every year or so. 17 years ago, a four year old boy was kidnapped from his parents from a small farm in ... Kansas, was it? Probably. They still haven’t found him. The boy’s name was Clark Joseph Kent.“

Clark was overwhelmed with emotion. So his parents still looked for him. He felt tears prickle in the corners of his eyes. „Y-Yeah. That’s me.“

Feeling Diana’s eyes on him, Clark turned around and looked at her, and was surprised to see the pure horror on her face. „17 years?“ she whispered.

Clark nodded, unable to speak. He looked at Green Arrow, „Are they still alive? My ... my parents?“

„We are going to find out,“ said Diana while the other three nodded, „You need some clothes and a shower.“

Clark looked down at himself – he was wearing a pair of dirty white pants he had left from 33.1, and had no shirt on. And was barefoot. Nice. Clark smiled sheepishly and nodded. It was then that he noticed Black Canary hadn’t said a word since he came there. He looked at her and saw her gaze was lower. On his abdomen. Where he had the scars. Clark wrapped his arms around it self-consciously, making Black Canary break out of her gaze. Clark smiled in return of her apologetic look.

„I’ll lend you some clothes,“ said Flash, „come on.“

„“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“

Flash gave Clark a pair of jeans, a  _Central City Rocks!_ t-shirt and some shoes that were too small for him. The shirt was a tad bit short, and yet too big. While Flash was all lean muscle, Clark was lean .. nothing. Clark, however, appreciated the gesture.

Clark took the shirt off and looked at himself in the mirror. He was clean-shaven, courtesy of 33.1, and had a buzz cut, as Flash put it. He looked like an idiot. His chest and abdomen were littered with scars and burns, but they had seemed a bit smaller than before. Clark actually kind of liked them. Well, perhaps liked was a too strong of a word. He didn’t like how he had come to have them, but he saw it as a sign – a sign of strength. A sign of being a survivor, a warrior.

However, he was still pretty much a walking skeleton. With a sigh, Clark put on the shirt once more, brushed his teeth, and left the room.

Diana was talking to Batman, who seemed to have arrived while Clark was changing. They stopped talking the moment they noticed him enter the so-called Monitor Womb.

Diana beamed at Clark, her smile infectious, „I found your parents.“

Clark opted not to tell her that he had known where his parents most likely were the past few years.

„“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“ „“

Clark and Diana flew over to Smallville, Kansas together, and since Clark had no idea how to control his flying yet, Diana had decided to carry him, much to her amusement.

Once they landed on the Kent farm, Clark was assaulted by memories. Good ones. Playing with his Pa, accidentally bending his tools, Ma’s apple pie ... He was almost overwhelmed. Diana put her hand on Clark‘s shoulder as a sign of comfort, and Clark relaxed. Together, they made their way over to the front door of the yellowish house that had not changed at all since the time he had seen it last.

Clark looked at Diana, his eyes betraying his emotions. She took his hand in hers and squeezed. With a deep breath, Clark knocked on the door.

He was a nervous wreck, he could admit as much.

„Nervous?“ Diana asked. Her expression changed the minute she said it. She looked up and closed her eyes, shaking her head. Clark smiled in amusement.

„Seeing your parents after 17 years of captivity does that to a human, right? .. Or .. an alien, I guess,“ Clark said, hoping to put her at ease.

It seemed to work, for she smiled gently, „I wouldn’t know. I’m about as much human as you are.“

Before Clark had the chance to reply to that, the door opened, and Clark immediately struggled not to break down right then and there. „Can I h—“

The words died on his Ma‘s lips as she put her hands over them. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and Clark had no doubt that she had recognized him the moment she saw him, as he did with her. Time had not been kind to her, but she was still as beautiful as he remembered her – for a four year old boy, the most beautiful person in the world was his mother.

„JONATHAN!“ she yelled. Diana squeezed his hand one final time before letting go. A few seconds later, a man with deep brown eyes and graying hair appeared, and once he looked at Martha and then Clark, he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in shock.

„C-Clark? Son?“ he whispered. Clark nodded, unable to speak. It all happened too fast, then. Suddenly, Clark found myself being hugged by his parents – his parents, whom he hadn‘t seen in seventeen years. His parents, whom he had been taken from forcefully. His parents, who had, apparently, never given up hope.

The dam broke and Clark let the tears fall. Broken sobs ran through him and shuddered his whole body, but he didn’t care. He did not care at all.

He was holding onto them tightly, afraid that if he were let go of them, they would disappear and he would wake up, alone, in 33.1, or worse, with Luthor.

A few minutes later, once they let go of each other, Clark turned around and saw Diana, smiling from ear to ear, her eyes shining with her own tears. His body, working on its own, immediately enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug. She seemed a little bit surprised, but her response was almost immediate, and she wrapped her arms around him, too, squeezing him just as tightly.

„Thank you,“ Clark whispered, his voice thick with emotion. „Thank you so much.“

She only held him tighter in response, and when he felt wetness on my shoulder, he realized that she was crying, too. And somehow, they all ended up in a group hug – Clark, his parents, and Diana.

For the first time in years, Clark felt safe. He was home.

 

 

Some minutes later, Diana and Clark were sitting next to each other in the kitchen, while his parents sat on the other side of the table. Clark’s Ma was still crying, but she was smiling, her grin so huge and so beautiful it nearly took Clark’s breath away. His Pa looked pretty much the same. Ma held Clark‘s hand tightly across the table, and he relished the contact. He felt giddy he was so happy.

„W-we thought you ... we thought you were dead,“ said dad quietly. Clark smiled and grabbed his hand, too.

„I’m not that easy to kill,“ he answered. He saw Diana smile from the corner of his eye. „Plus, I owe it all to her. She was the one who saved me,“ he added with a little smile.

She blushed.

 „You survived on your own,“ she said, her expression honest, „by your own force of will. You are a warrior, Clark. The strongest one I’ve ever seen.“

Now it was Clark‘s turn to blush. Still, there was one thing he wanted to ask my parents, something that could not wait. „Ma, Pa?“

They looked at him with equally questioning looks. Taking a deep breath, Clark finally asked, „One of the scientists said I was a ... Kryptonian. An alien. Is ... is that true?“

He pretty much knew the answer. No, he definitely knew the answer. He just wanted to hear it from someone who meant no harm.

Their  expressions turned from questioning and happy to solemn. Diana looked surprised. It was Ma who broke the silence, „Yes. We found you when you were a few months old. You landed not far from here, actually. We were coming home from a convention, I believe,“ Pa nodded, „when we saw something land on Mayer’s field.“

„Me,“ Clark whispered. They nodded.

„Yes. You. We were afraid the government would come for you, but for years, no one came. We finally thought you were safe and that no one knew about you, but then...“

„They came,“ Clark finished for them, his voice shaking slightly. They nodded again. He let go of their hands and put them on his lap.

„I’m an alien,“ he whispered. „The last of my kind.“

Diana put her hand in his under the table and squeezed it tightly. Clark had a feeling that a normal man’s hand wouldn’t have been broken, but crushed. Clark squeezed back, the warmth of her hand calming him down. Clark felt like breaking down again.

„I’m not one of you,“ Clark said so quietly that only Diana heard. Her head whipped so hard he thought she’d get whiplash. Clark knew what whiplash was. He had seen things.

„You are, Clark. Doesn’t matter where you come from. You are a living, breathing being. You have rights, just like everyone else,“ her words were strong, unwavering. Passionate. She truly believed them. Clark felt touched by her words, and he smiled at her. She smiled in return. „Plus, take it this way. We already have a Martian on our team.“

„A Martian? Like from Mars?“

She smiled. „Yes. A Martian from Mars.“

Diana then explained to me who J’onn J’onzz was, and that he was also the only surviving member of his species. His parents seemed to know some of the stuff, but they listened intently.

She then explained that she herself was an Amazon, an immortal warrior from the island of Themyscira. Clark finally understood what she meant when she said she wasn’t really human. Supposedly, most of the League members were metahumans.

„Do you know what a metahuman is, Clark?“ Diana asked, interrupting her own story.

Clark hadn’t even noticed that he was holding hands with his parents again.

He nodded. „Met some in 33.1. Some of them took me under their wing, especially back when I was a kid. I was hidden from them most of the time, though.“ He really didn’t want to explain that the reason he was hidden from them was because he was the so-called Subject Zero.

The name sent a chill down his back, and Clark shook my head, desperate for the thought to disappear.

They had lunch, then, and Clark just happened to have about five helpings. Ma offered him even more, claiming that he was too skinny for my own good, and Clark, unfortunately, had to agree with her about that. After lunch, they relocated themselves to the living room, and Diana excused herself when her earpiece buzzed.

„So, you and Wonder Woman, eh?“ asked his Ma once Diana was out of earshot, her smile teasing.

„She did save me, didn’t she? I’ll be forever grateful for that,“ Clark answered with his own smile. It all felt so .. normal. Happy.

The happy atmosphere was replaced by a heavy one when Pa asked him the question he honestly didn’t know the answer for. Or perhaps didn’t want to know the answer for.

„What happened to you, son?“ Clark tensed.

„A lot,“ he decided to answer, not knowing what else to say. „I don’t want to go into details. I’m sorry.“

Pa smiled at him in understanding and patted his shoulder, making Clark quietly sigh in relief It was still a sore spot. „It’s alright, honey. Just know that whenever you’re ready to talk, we’re here. We’ll always be here for you,“ his Ma said.

„Thank you,“ Clark hugged them. „Just know that not all of it was bad. I met some good people, too.“ They smiled, glad that he was willing to share at least some small bits.

Diana came back a few minutes later. „I’m sorry. Clark, could you come with me for a minute?“

Clark shrugged and nodded. Once they were out of earshot, Diana started, „Batman would like to do some tests on you.“

Clark’s whole body immediately tensed, and his brain was not that far behind _._ Tests. His breathing quickened.

Tests.

Diana seemed to realize something was wrong.

Tests.

He couldn’t breathe.

_Tests. Experiments._

„Clark,“ she said softly, though her voice sounded as if they were separated by a river, „it’s okay. You don’t have to do it. Just breathe, okay? Just breathe.“ She squeezed his hand, and sank down to the floor with him. Clark shut my eyes tight, only to see another memory of _them_ doing _tests_ on him.

Tests. Torture. It was all the same.

„Clark, open your eyes. Please,“ she pleaded. And so he did. He looked into her eyes, full of concern worry and fear – not for her, but for him. „Breathe with me.“

She took his hand and put in on her chest on her chest. „In and out, Clark. In and out.“ She breathed in deeply, then exhaled loudly, the breaths purposely exaggerated.

In. Out.

In. Out.

In. Out.

Clark slowly felt himself regaining his bearings and calming down. When he looked at her properly after what seemed like eternity, her face was one of pure relief. And then guilt. „I’m so sorry, Clark,“ she said quietly, looking down.

„It’s okay,“ Clark reassured her. „You didn’t know.“

Everything was quiet for a few seconds, and then he said quietly, „I don’t trust them.“

Diana looked at him with and tilted her head to the side, a silent question. „The League, I mean. Not yet. I trust you,“ He added. And it was true, somewhat. He trusted her as much as he’d ever trusted anyone – as much as his parents, perhaps. He didn’t trust the League yet. His whole life, Clark had never known whom to trust. But he knew trusted Diana – he had no idea if it was the honestly open expression she always wore, or if it was the compassion in her eyes, or the fact that she had saved him. He trusted her, and she seemed to realize how big that was for a person like Clark.

„I do,“ she said eventually. „You don’t have to do this, Clark. But the League only wants to help. We want to help you to learn control. We don’t want to experiment on you or get something from it. The only thing we want to do is to help.“

Clark thought about it for a minute. She had a point. He really didn’t know the extent of his powers. Even in 33.1, he had always been strong. Much stronger than the average human. Hell, he broke through a wall and survived a hundred feet fall. And that was in 33.1. Who knew how powerful he could potentially become? Plus, Diana said the League was here to do good, and Clark trusted Diana.

Clark mulled it over.

_They want to help you. They wish you no harm. You are a free being. You are free. There is nothing they can do to you._

„Yes.“

The smile she gave him could outshine a thousand suns.

 

 

„I will come here tomorrow and escort you to the Watchtower,“ said Diana after explaining everything to his parents, who had agreed, albeit a bit reluctantly. They knew about the League and they knew it existed to be a force for good. Plus, they remembered how strong Clark was when he was four. „I will be with you most of the time,“ she said, and Clark sent her a grateful look. She smiled. „You can come anytime, if you wish so,“ the last sentence was addressed to his parents.

After saying goodbyes, Diana flew away, leaving Clark with his parents. „So, uh.. any clothes I could borrow?“ Clark asked, his expression sheepish. Ma just rolled her eyes with a huge grin, while Pa smiled in amusement.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, leave Kudos and a Comment, they're all greatly appreciated! 
> 
> They hella inspire me too.


	5. The Last Kryptonian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the last pre-written chapter. From now on, this story will be updated .. okay, most likely irregularly, but still.
> 
> Please, leave kudos and a comment down below, it keeps me going!:)

Clark and his parents talked afterwards for what felt like hours, and only later had they realized that they had actually talked for hours. And while Clark wasn’t ready to open up his wounds, he had been able to tell them about some of the people he had met. Like the Terror twins, Tommy and Tuppence. They were Clark’s cellmates when he was four, just weeks after they’d taken him. Clark fondly remembered his fear of them at first, considering the fact that they were extremely intimidating and super-strong. Not as strong as Clark had been back then, but extremely strong nonetheless. They had taken Clark under their wing basically the moment they looked at him for the first time – tear-stained cheeks, puffy red eyes betraying the fear he had felt then, and, of course, his whole body shaking like a leaf in a fifty-mile wind.

„They taught me how to write,“ Clark said to my parents. It was obvious they were trying not to cry, making it that much harder for Clark not to break down, too. „Not everything was that bad in there. They were good. They helped me, they took care of me. They cared about me.“

Clark had decided even before telling the story to not mention the part where the assholes took the twins for their daily examination, and Clark not having heard of them ever since. Clark sincerely hoped they were okay, even though, deep inside, he had known for some time that they most likely weren’t.

Ever since losing the twins, Clark had decided not to attach to anyone in that hellhole. Attachment only brought more pain when the people were eventually ripped from him. Then, years later, Dr. Hamilton showed up. He helped Clark escape. Or, to put it better, he helped him escape only for him to be caught once again. The good doctor was most likely dead, making the stone in Clark’s chest only heavier. That only proved the point.

Now, however ... now, that Clark was free? He could finally let myself get attached to someone. Clark knew that it wasn’t healthy being always on his own. Clark also knew that it wouldn’t be easy. He still had a long way ahead of him.

Still, the talk with his parents helped him. He felt easier after that, even though he barely told them a thing. He was sure that in time, he would be able to open up. Clark didn’t know whom he’d be able to open up to if not his parents.

Later, once they all decided to call it a night, Clark was happy to see that my parents had not changed his old room at all in all these years. Okay, maybe not that happy, considering the fact that bed was a little too small for him. Pa seemed to have realized this as well and offered him the couch, saying that they would buy a bigger bed tomorrow.

That night, Clark only had two nightmares, which, to him, was pretty much a success on its own. One was the one he’d had before – about the couple, Jor and the other woman, presumably his mother, putting him in a pod. When he was a kid, he used to think it was just a pigment of his imagination. He knew better now.

The other one Clark would rather not think about, though when he woke up, panting, cold sweat all over his body (Clark chuckled when he realized that he only sweated when having nightmares. Huh.), his heart racing wildly and loudly in his ears. His parents were there, most likely hearing his screams, helping with through after effects. And Clark couldn’t be more grateful if he wanted to.

He did.

The next day, Clark woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes, something je hadn‘t smelt in years. Sad, really. His stomach immediately made itself known, and Clark was pretty sure that it would wake the whole house had his parents not been up already. Slowly turning, he checked the clock on the wall and was pretty shocked to see that it was 11 AM. Clark went to bed at 9.

„Good morning, sleepyhead,“ said Pa affectionately, some amusement coloring his voice, from the kitchen. Clark felt a smile growing. It felt nice.

„Mornin‘,“ Clark grumbled, his voice still a bit sleepy. Facing the window, Clark felt the sun’s rays hit his body. His skin started to tingle. His whole body, really.

_I could get used to this._

„Wonder Woman called, and how she got out number is beyond me,“ said Ma as she came out of the kitchen, wearing a  _Kiss The Cook_ apron, „and I honestly don’t even want to know. She said she’d be here to pick you up at 1:30, so you have some time to eat and do whatever you like. Good morning, sweetheart.“

She kissed his cheek, and Clark smiled down at her. When he was a kid, Clark used to cling to her, wrapping his small arms around her legs when she was trying to leave the room or ... basically trying to do anything.

Mom led him to the kitchen and once he sat down, she put at a least dozen pancakes in front of him, along with some scrambled eggs and fresh bacon on another plate. Clark thanked her with a huge grin and dug in, and really, it was one of the best things he had ever tasted, though that wasn‘t saying much. Ma kept adding pancakes onto his plate, and Clark had no complaints whatsoever.

„Thanks, Ma,“ Clark thanked her after he finished. His Ma gave him a watery smile in return, still not quite over the fact that she had her son back.

„You’re welcome, Clark.“

 

 

 

After the most amazing breakfast he‘d had since ... ever, Clark brushed his teeth and ran a hand through his nonexistent hair, though it seemed to be growing out ever so slowly. Clark did not complain. He thought he looked like an idiot with that buzz cut.

His Pa went into town earlier and after ordering a new bed, which would come in a few days, he also bought some clothes, since his wouldn’t be a fit – Clark was a few inches taller than him and was much skinnier.

Almost too soon, Clark heard the telltale knock on the door, and the sound of Diana’s voice greeting his Ma and Pa. Clark went downstairs and greeted her as well. She wasn’t in her usual Wondersuit, as Clark had dubbed it, but in a pair of formfitting jeans and a white t-shirt.

„Hey, Clark. Ready to go? Are you going, too, Mr. and Mrs. Kent?“ she asked with a smile, and her eyes seemed to be glowing in the sunlight.

„We aren’t, unfortunately,“ said his Ma with a smile on her own, albeit the smile being a bit disappointed, „we still have a farm to run. We’ll visit during the next one, if that’s okay with you, sweetie?“

„It’s alright, Ma.“

Clark then looked at Diana nodded, telling her that he was ready. Once outside, he said goodbye to his parents, giving them a tight hug which almost resulted in cracking one of his Pa‘s ribs. Diana picked him up, since Clark still had no idea how to fly, and together, they flew over to the nearest teleporter to the Watchtower.

Once aboard the Watchtower, Clark was met with pairs of curious eyes, both from the heroes and the civilian staff, which, apparently, the tower also employed. Diana said that they had already prepared everything for the tests, and that they would like to do a scan of his body, take a DNA sample, and, of course, test his abilities.

„If any of this makes you feel uncomfortable, or you start panicking, or _anything_ of the sort, just tell me, and I’ll cancel the tests, okay?“

Clark nodded. He wasn’t really sure about the DNA sample. Still, Diana’s presence was somehow calming him down, and when she led him into a sterile room, which was apparently primarily used as an infirmary, Clark couldn’t help but feel extremely grateful for the fact that she was by his side.

A kind looking woman came in, wearing a white lab coat, which made Clark stiffen involuntarily. Clark hoped no one noticed, but Diana apparently did, and put a hand on his shoulder, silently telling him that she was there both with him and for him.

The woman introduced herself as Dr. Kirby and told Clark that there was nothing to worry about. Clark hoped she was right. She took out a needle, and yeah, guess what?

Clark flinched.

Diana, seeing his distress, immediately came in front of him and knelt down so she was looking into his eyes. She held her hands in his. „It’s okay, Clark. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.“

Clark looked into her eyes, and he could see that she was telling the truth. He didn’t have to do this – he could easily refuse to participate in this test. But still, Clark wanted to learn about himself. He was an alien – a Kryptonian. The last of his kind. What was the source of his powers? Okay, that one Clark sort of figured out already. But still - did he even have a DNA? How different was he from humans? From Diana? From other metahumans? His kind was supposedly ancient.

He wanted to learn more.

So, with steely resolution and determination in his eyes (Clark hoped it was there, anyway), Clark looked at Dr. Kirby and nodded, silently giving her permission to proceed.

... The needle broke when it came into contact with his skin.

„Th-That ... that was a titanium needle,“ stammered Dr. Kirby. Titanium. The strongest metal on Earth, according to Cheeky Dickhead the Second, or commonly known as a scientist that had experimented on him once. He had said that Clark wouldn’t be able to break out of titanium bonds. He had been wrong. Clark was fifteen.

They had decided to use Nth metal after that – Clark hadn’t been able to do shit against that one, even though he suspected he hadn’t been nearly as strong back then as he was now.

„Okay, let’s move on,“ suggested Diana after a beat. Clark nodded at once, agreeing wholeheartedly.

They decided to get it over with and do the scans, despite how anxious Clark felt. Logically, he knew they were only trying to help him. He knew that. But years of _tests_ had taught him not to trust anyone with a „Dr.“ in front of their name. Not to trust anyone. To run. Clark shook those thoughts away – they wouldn’t do him any good. It was a survival reflex, an instinct to run, to hide, and to survive. Clark didn’t want to do that.

Clark literally felt Diana’s smile widen and her expression brighten before she even looked at him, her eyes sparkling, „J’onn’s here!“

Ah. J’onn J’onzz – the Martian, as Diana explained yesterday. An alien like Clark – the last of his kind, apparently, as well. Diana motioned with her hand at an extremely tall figure, even taller than Clark, and Clark realized that this was the Martian. If not for the fact that his skin was a deep shade of green, the fact that he was wearing a pair of dark blue boots and a cape of the same color would’ve revealed his origin to Clark, anyway.

„Hey, J’onn, I’d like to introduce you to Clark,“ greeted Diana once they approached the Martian. He turned around and smiled at her, but his smile disappeared immediately the moment his eyes landed on Clark. His expression looked ... solemn, it was the only way to describe it. As if he was seeing a ghost from his past.

„Jor-El?“ he whispered quietly.

„No,“ Clark answered softly. The Martian thought Clark was the man from his dreams, or nightmares, really. Jor. His father. Jor _-El_.

The surprise on his face was evident. He looked at Clark, as if he was trying to see into his mind – his eyes started glowing bright orange, and then as fast as it came, it disappeared.

„I am sorry. I am aware that I should not look into the minds of the innocent. _Kal-El_ ,“ he said, and Clark felt something burn within him when he said the name, „it is a pleasure to meet the last son of Krypton at last.“

„The last...“ Clark mumbled quietly to myself. So it was true. He was the last. The last of his kind.

The last Kryptonian.

„Come with me, please. We have much to discuss,“ the Martian said, and looked pointedly at Diana. „Diana may come as well, if you wish.“

Clark looked at her and recognized her expression – she was giving him a choice. She had the same expression when she’d asked him if he wanted to do the tests. Back then, which was yesterday, Clark thought about that for some time. Now, though, the answer was clear. And so, with a nod, which seemed to satisfy both J’onn and Diana, they started walking towards the cafeteria. At least that’s what it looked like to him.

They sat down at one of the many tables present in the room, and for a second, there was silence. That was, until Clark broke it.

„Who am I?“ he asked him quietly. Knowing the basic facts, he still wanted to learn who he truly was.

„You,“ answered the Martian after a while, „are the son of two of Krypton’s best scientists, Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van. You are Kal-El, the Star-Child, the last son of Krypton, the last member of the noble House of El.“

Lara. So that was the name of his mother. The beautiful woman he saw in my dreams (nightmares), next to his father.

„Why am I the last? And how do you know so much about Krypton?“ Clark asked a few seconds later. He saw Diana from the corner of his eye, almost as interested as Clark himself.

He sighed. „My race perished hundreds of years ago. I have travelled across the stars, searching for a new home, when I arrived on Krypton, where I met your parents. I left months before the planet parrished, not knowing what was about to happen. I have a suspicion that Jor-El was aware of the events that were to take place.

„Krypton was a planet of advanced science and military. Its gravity was hundreds of times stronger than that of Earth, making even my muscles strain, and it circled a red sun, a red supergiant the Kryptonians called Rao – the God of all creation, of light and life.“

He then went on, and told Clark everything he knew. About Krypton‘s supposedly unstable core, leading to the planet’s destruction. How Kryptonians were one of the most advanced civilizations in the universe, far ahead of even the Martians, comparable to the New Gods, whoever they were. How happy Clark‘s parents were when they found out Lara was pregnant, even if it was against Kryptonian laws to give birth naturally.

He explained how Kryptonians were born through a Birthing Matrix – how the parents would put their DNA into it, making the Matrix process it, modify it, and then create an embryo, from which the child would be born in a few months.

He told that while Kryptonians were cold and aloof, Jor-El and Lara were different, how they had taken the Martian in and allowed him to live with them.

„You look so much like your father,“ he said eventually with a kind smile. „You have your mother’s hair and eyes, however. Jor-El claimed he had never seen eyes as deep and beautiful as your mother’s.“

His mother‘s eyes. Deep blue with speckles of white in them – Clark’s Ma used to say that they were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. Those eyes were now filled with tears. Diana’s hand found his own, offering him a watery smile when he looked at her. Clark noticed she had tears in her eyes, too. Clark decided to change the topic, otherwise a breakdown would be inevitable.

„H-How ... how do my powers work?“ Clark asked shakily. The Martian smiled gently, obviously understanding Clark‘s need to change the subject.

Letting Clark compose himself, J’onn started, „As I have told you already, Kryptonians evolved on a planet billions of years before humans,“ Clark nodded, and he continued, „Krypton’s environment was much, much harsher than that of Earth, which meant that Kryptonians‘ muscles had to adapt. Your muscles are genetically strong enough to live on a planet with gravity hundreds of times stronger than that of Earth.“

Clark nodded in understanding. That’s how he was able to break through the wall even though he was the definition of a walking skeleton. That’s why _they_ couldn’t cut him with ordinary equipment.

It comforted him – the science, the explanations. The knowledge. Clark felt lighter, somehow. Maybe it was finally learning about his biological parents. Maybe it was finally learning about his kind. Maybe it was Diana’s calming presence next to him, her hand clasped in his in silent support. Or maybe it was the Martian finally answering the questions Clark had had for the longest of times.

J’onn continued, „Krypton used to orbit a red supergiant. Earth, however, orbits around Sol – a yellow star. Each and every one of your cells absorb the energy of the Sol.“

This time, Diana cut in, „That was the reason you didn’t have your abilities in the facility we found you in,“ she explained, „it was all lined with lead, not allowing even the passive radiation to peak through.“

They must have had something similar like that in 33.1.

„So, I’m a solar battery?“ Clark asked. The Martian let out a weak chuckle and nodded. „Basically, yes. Your body had already adapted to Earth’s atmosphere and environment, and if my suspicions are correct, your ability to absorb Sol’s radiation are already more efficient than would be that of an average Matrix born Kryptonian.“

Somehow, that didn’t make him feel any better. The knowledge that he would most likely never meet another of his kind.

„I know how you feel, Kal-El,“ said J’onn softly, „I am the last survivor of my species as well, and while the pain will not pass, it will get easier. In time.“

Clark nodded and gave him his thanks. Once they left the Martian, who apparently really loved Oreos, whatever that was, they decided to go and test Clark‘s abilities. To be honest, Clark was happy for the distraction, even though it still gave him the creeps.

„Oh, and Kal-El?“ asked the Martian, and somehow, Clark heard him. Turning around, Clark gave him a confused look, and he smiled in return, his chin a little smeared from the ... cookies? Oh, right. Oreos were cookies. „While you are physically alright now, I would be careful. Your body will now evolve now more than ever, adapting to your new abilities.“

Clark nodded at him in thanks and gave him a light smile. Adapting? Somehow, Clark had a feeling it wouldn’t end very well.

Once they left the cafeteria, Clark couldn’t stop thinking about Krypton and his biological parents. Diana kept offering me her silent support, and Clark couldn’t be more grateful. He didn’t know what to say, and apparently, neither did she. Still, he felt grateful for her calming presence alone.

 

 

 

Two hours later, the tests were finished. As not even J’onn had any idea how Clark‘s powers would evolve, they‘d decided to test him only with the abilities they were sure Clark had already possessed – durability, strength and flight.

Flying still caused him a little trouble, but he was sure he‘d be able to master it in time.

„So, how did I do?“ Clark asked once he left the gym where the League had decided the test would take place. Batman was reading through some data on his tablet and Diana was smiling at Clark, her grin huge. Clark was a little afraid that she wouldn’t be able to ... uh ... ungrin? Yes. Ungrin. Let’s leave it at that.

„You are getting stronger by the second,“ answered Batman. „We gave you the strongest weights we have and you lifted it like it was a paperweight. Your strength most likely already outmatches Diana. There is no known limit yet.“

Clark looked at her, and while he couldn’t read all the emotions on her face, he could still see the trust in them. He was glad that she wasn’t afraid of him. She was a warrior. She could most likely still kick his ass into oblivion.

„Your durability’s limits also remain unknown.“

„You _shot bullets_ at me,“ Clark said. Batman smirked. „I know.“

„You have potential, Kal,“ said Diana, and Clark immediately registered the name rolling off her tongue. She seemed to notice it, too, but decided not to pay any attention to it. Clark kind of liked the way it sounded in her Themysciran accent, as it was apparently called.

„With proper training, you could be a valuable member of the League,“ said Flash, appearing out of nowhere.

Clark was pretty sure he would’ve choked on his own spit if not for the fact that he probably couldn’t.

She shot Flash a look. He shrunk a little.

„He’s not ready, W—Flash.“

Clark nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. He wasn’t ready. However, there was something he had wanted to ask for some time now. „You ... you think I have it in me? To be like you?“

„Like us?“ Diana asked, clearly confused.

„To be a ... hero,“ Clark said uncertainly.

She frowned. „Of course you have, Kal. I’ve seen the way you care for others, even after all you’ve been through. How worried you were about others when we found you in Cadmus, how much you care about your parents. You are a hero already, for surviving what you have and yet still remaining a gentle, caring soul..“

Clark felt touched at her words, but even more at the sincerity and complete faith in them.

„There are more prisoners, Diana. In 33.1. I want to set them free. I want to help them.“

„And you will be able to,“ she said, and Clark looked at Batman to see him already doing something on the tablet, his fingers moving and touching the screen with speed and precision. „We will do everything in our power to set them free,“ said Diana with conviction.

„I want to help.“

„Kal..“ said Diana uncertainly.

„I know. It won’t be easy. But I know them. Well, some of them. I know what they do to the people there. I know what they did to me. No one deserves it, Diana. Please. Let me help you.“

Clark looked at Diana, his gaze unwavering. She sighed. „Okay.“ Batman shot her a look, „But first, we need some ground rules.“

„Anything.“

„First,“ she said, „you don’t go after them on your own. You are with us now.“

Clark nodded.

„Second, you let me train you.“

Clark nodded again. Seemed sensible. He needed to be more than just brawn.

„And third ... I want you to see a psychiatrist.“

That stopped Clark dead in his tracks. „Why?“

Diana looked at him, her gaze concerned. However, it was Batman who answered. „Because, sooner or later, it’s going to get worse. The trauma. The pain. The flashbacks. The trust issues. Everything. It’s only going to hurt you more.“

He was speaking from experience, that much he could tell.

„Did you see one?“ Clark asked. Batman did not answer.

Instead, it was Diana who continued, „Black Canary is a certified psychiatrist. You’ve already met her. Try one session. If you decide that you’re not ready, we’ll back off, okay?“

Clark sighed. „I trust you.“

The megawatt smile she gave him made his chest feel lighter.


End file.
